


Life's Messy, Clean It Up

by slashxmistress



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: BDSM, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, M/M, Multi, Overstimulation, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:43:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashxmistress/pseuds/slashxmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon likes the aftercare most of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Messy, Clean It Up

**Author's Note:**

> beta: aerogroupie on livejournal  
> Written for kink_bingo "washing/cleaning"

Brendon’s favorite part of a scene was almost always the aftermath.

He loved being a sub. Loved giving over control, letting his chaotic thoughts go and just ...serving.

He loved belonging. The possessive look in Sarah’s eyes that said, “You’re mine, all mine,” -- even as she was sharing him with Breezy, with Dallon. Dallon’s eye’s held their own possession, different but just as real. Breezy mostly looked at him with awe -- like she couldn’t believe he was real.

And Brendon belonged to them all equally.

Sarah pushed him hard, and he loved to _be_ pushed. It made him proud -- the distance he could go for her, for them. Sometimes Dallon pushed too and sometimes they were pushed together -- when Breezy got her wicked on. Breezy was usually the soft touch for Brendon, the balance, but she could be stern, too. She was possibly the strongest of the four of them and could inflict the most delicious pain with love in her eyes, never judging him for that itch that made him beg for more.

Brendon loved them. Loved serving them, being used by them, hurt by them, fucked by them. But maybe more than all of that -- he loved how they took care of him.

Like tonight for instance.

It was their first day home from months of touring and Brendon was exhausted but _wired_.  
He just couldn’t let that constant adrenaline rush go. The one pushing him to be up and about ready for interviews or shows or shenanigans at any moment. He was bouncing around like a maniac and annoying everyone in sight -- well, mostly Sarah and any the friends she invited over. He _tried_ to settle, but his skin itched like a thousand fire ants were swarming just beneath it.

 

So Sarah had done what she did best: take care of him. She called Dallon and Breezy and of course they came right over. Only taking time to call a sitter for the little ones. Dallon still had that slump of exhaustion around his shoulders, but the dark look of want in his eyes still shone fiercely with every glance his way. Breezy had only taken one look at him and known what to do.

Being very familiar with their setup, it took her no time at all to have him tied, face down and spread eagle on the bed. She and Sarah shared some kind of silent communication -- Brendon and Dallon both secretly believed they were Borg -- and then he’d felt the first delicious sting of Sarah’s flogger.

 

Another solid smack landed on his other side, and this one was most definitely Breezy’s whip. It seemed they had decided to take turns, flicking all across his back, his ass, his thighs. Their strokes were quick and light, barely catching his skin with the leather tips. There was a mildly tantalizing sting with each one, and it built and built until he was on fire and every snap bit into his skin.

When he was red and throbbing, every inch of his backside singing and hot to the touch, the girls put on their favorite harnesses and, along with Dallon, had taken turns fucking him until the buzz left his skin. By the end of it he was completely exhausted and sore in too many places to count. Hoarse from crying out, he was laid helplessly in a pool of his own come. His body was covered with their come -- mixed generously with lube and sweat and even little bits of blood. He knew he was filthy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care -- hell, he couldn’t even lift his head.

 

Brendon barely felt the bed shift as the others got off it. He was vaguely aware of them shuffling around, of the sounds of water running, doors opening and closing as he faded in and out of consciousness. After several minutes or hours or even days -- who knew? -- Sarah leaned down and ran her fingers through his hair, whispering, “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Brendon just managed to groan out a protest before he felt Dallon’s arms around him -- easily lifting and carrying him off towards the bathroom. No matter how often it happened it still startled him how effortlessly Dallon could manhandle him. Dallon’s touch was gentle as he cradled Brendon to himself like a rag doll and walked into the bathroom, now filling up with steam and smelling _heavenly_. Like that one bath oil Sarah got him for Christmas. Something to do with tuberose and plums.

Breezy was running the bath, filling it with something wonderful and bubbly, too. Brendon briefly worried that he didn’t have enough strength to sit upright in the tub and not drown himself, but Dallon didn’t set him down. Instead he stepped right in and sat down himself, holding Brendon in his lap.

Brendon sighed as he sunk into the warm, sudsy water and leaned back against Dallon’s chest. Dallon’s arms came around him and just held him close as he could. They never talked about it in any serious, mushy way -- they weren’t (total) _girls_ , but still, in moments like this, Brendon _knew_ Dallon loved him. Completely and just as much as Sarah and Breezy.

Brendon made a embarrassing squeak of pure pleasure when Dallon brought his hands up and began washing his hair, making him remember just why he loved the aftermath so much. He happily purred into the touch. Dallon’s hands were strong and sure -- callused from years of actual labor. They were rough in the right places, but oh so gentle when they wanted to be. Dallon then lifted his chin, and Brendon arched his head back so he could rinse his hair. He let himself settle once again as those marvelous hands proceeded to wash the come and residue from his skin.

Brendon shivered into his delicious touch and jumped a little when he heard Dallon laughing into his ear. “Again B?” Dallon teased, incredulous, “You still not get enough?” He glanced down to see his cock twitching interestedly in the water, and knew by the way Dallon’s chin dug into his shoulder he was looking, too.

“Mmm...I can never get enough of you.” Brendon turned his head and pressed against Dallon’s lips. The kiss was slow and heated and passionate and a million other things as Dallon stroked soapy hands down across Brendon’s belly, playing teasingly with the curly hairs there. A whimper elicited from Brendon as he closed his fist and squeezed and pulled at him in this slow, soft, mouth watering way on Brendon’s still mostly tender cock.

“Dallon... no... I-I _can’t_ ,” Brendon whined, squirming as Dallon caressed and coaxed his overused member to come out and play again.

“Sure you can B,” Dallon whispered low and dirty. “You never get enough of me right? Show me, come on. Show me what you can do, huh?”

Brendon’s hips rocked up, the water buoying his strength. If Dallon asked he could never refuse him. Even if his cock was hard and pulsing, screaming in protest. Dallon rubbed his thumb over and around the slit teasingly, and in a matter of moments they both stared, mesmerized, as a thin jet of come parted the water between their legs.

It’s a testament to Dallon’s strength that he managed to get Brendon out of the tub and towelled off -- because Brendon certainly wasn’t much help. He carried him in and deposited him on a freshly made bed between Sarah and Breezy. Then Dallon slipped in behind Breezy himself.

Brendon snuggled in and claimed Sarah’s mouth in a sweet kiss, noting the distinct taste of Breezy on her tongue. He wasn’t about to complain about that, though.


End file.
